


ONCE UPON A TIME (the ballad of ser pounce)

by Mikkeneko



Category: Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening
Genre: Angst, Gen, Graphic Violence, Implied Rape/Non-con, Stylistic Suck, child-appropriate writing skills, fairy tale format, of a sort, sort of have to read between the lines but it's there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-20
Updated: 2016-01-20
Packaged: 2018-05-15 03:08:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5769019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mikkeneko/pseuds/Mikkeneko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Once upon a time there was a fierce tiger named Ser Pounce-a-Lot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	ONCE UPON A TIME (the ballad of ser pounce)

**Author's Note:**

> There's a codex in Witch Hunt in the Circle library that reads, "Folded near the back of the book is a very old sheet of notes scrawled by a young apprentice. In the margins are various sketches of templars being eaten by a fierce tiger named Ser Pounce-a-lot."
> 
> The saga of Ser Pounce-a-lot as told through the years.

i.

 _(Shaky, sprawling handwriting on a piece of parchment so old and tattered it is impossible to make out its original purpose.)_               

Once upon a time there was a cat a TIGER named Ser Pounce-A-Lot because he pounced on everything. mostly Templars. He was big three feet big tall and red, had lots of red stripes, on his head and his paws. He had sharp claws and lots of sharp teeth and Ser Pounce-Alot could go anywhere he wanted.

 Ser Pounce-A Lot roared at the wall of the Tower and it fell down! Ten Templars rushed at Ser Pounce-a-Lot and he batted them away with his left paw. Then eleven Templars rushed at Ser Pounce A-Lot and he batted them away with his right paw. Then fourteen Templars rushed at Ser Pounce-A-lot and he ate them all up with one bite!

 Then I got on Ser Pounce a Lot’s back and he flew away into the sky away back to home. Ser Pouncea-Lot also had wings. claws

 

* * *

 

ii.    

 _(Slightly neater handwriting on the backs of a collection of beginner's herbalism notes.)_          

Once upon a time an Apprentice went to sleep and when he went to sleep he entered the Fade. In the Fade he met a mighty tiger named Ser Pounce-A-Lot and became friends. Together with Ser Pounce-A-Lot they went on adventures. Ser Pounce-A-Lot could fly because this is the Fade and you can fly there.

 On their adventure the apprentice and Ser Pounce-A-Lot met a Rage demon and Ser Pounce-A-Lot tore it apart because it was very weak. Then they met a Hunger demon which was a little stronger and tried to eat them but Ser Pounce-A-Lot tore it apart. Then they met a Sloth demon which was even stronger but it didn’t do anything and Ser Pounce-A-Lot tore it apart. Then they met a Desire demon which was strongest of all and offered Ser Pounce-A-Lot lots of milk and catnip and toys and Ser Pounce-A-Lot was tempted but the apprentice warned him not to and they tore it apart.

 The apprentice and Ser Pounce-A-Lot agreed that they should keep going even though the next demons would be even more dangerous. The apprentice decided to help his friend by making potions. First he made a Life Ward potion with four parts elfroot to three parts spindleweed in an alembic. Life Ward potions help keep you alive if you get hurt. Then he made a Rock Armor potion with elfroot, spindleweed and also embrium. Rock Armor potions make your skin hard like rock. And he also made an Elixir of Heroism with five parts elfroot, spindleweed, embrium and also ambrosia, but Ser Pounce-A-Lot said he didn’t need it because he was already heroic!

 Now that they were ready for anything the Apprentice and Ser Pounce-A-lot kept going. They went to the Black City and there was a Pride demon, which was strongest of all. Pride demons are strong because they are very like men. The Pride demon laughed at them and called them robe. It said they were stupid and tried to hit them with lightning but it didn’t work because of the rock armor potion. Then Ser Pounce-A-Lot tore it apart.

 When all the demons were dead the Maker came back to the Black City and made it gold again. He told them that he had been waiting for a brave mage who could defeat all the demons. and he asked if they wanted to live in the Golden City with him? They said yes and the apprentice and his friend Ser Pounce-A-Lot lived there happily ever after.

 

* * *

 

iii.    

 _(Scrawled in harsh, deep strokes at the bottom of an old infirmary report.)_         

Once upon a time Ser Blarroll the Templar walked through the Tower in his shiny silverite plate armor and his stupid skirt, with a smug smile on his face because he thought he was better than everyone. He went into the mage’s quarters and opened the door of one of the mages there, thinking that he could go wherever he wanted and do whatever he wanted to whoever he wanted. Just imagine his surprise when he opened that door and found a tiger instead.

 It was a huge tiger, five feet tall at the shoulder and with teeth as long as your hand. It roared and growled and snarled, saliva dripping from its razor-sharp teeth, and dragged one huge clawed foot against the ground, gouging furrows in the stone. Its name was Ser Pounce-A-Lot and it did just what you would expect a tiger to do: it pounced.

 Ser Blarroll squealed like a little girl when the tiger jumped on him. All his fancy silverite plate was no use against those deadly claws and it laid open his breastplate with a mighty swipe. The tiger could have killed the Templar right away by tearing out his throat, but he didn’t, because that would have been too easy.

 The tiger slashed and mauled and clawed Ser Blarroll all over, cutting huge gouges in his chest and stomach and his face. It punched him in the chest and broke all his ribs and then ripped open his guts so they spilled out all over the floor. Ser Blarroll tried to fight back but he was too weak, so he pissed himself on the floor like a coward. The Templar yelled for someone to help him but nobody did because nobody cares what happens to a Templar.

 The tiger ripped Ser Blarroll’s hair off with his mighty paws and made his head bleed. “Oh ser, please stop, don’t hurt me, I’ll do anything!” the Templar cried out, but the tiger laughed at him and didn’t stop. With daggerlike claws it ripped off his stupid skirt and then tore off his dick like a limp weed. Blood gushed from the place it had been and Ser Carroll screamed and cried and begged for mercy. But the tiger didn’t listen because it didn’t care.

 At last the tiger had enough fun playing with the cowardly, ugly Templar and bit his head off in one easy bite. Then it spat his head out with contempt because he tasted so foul even tigers wouldn’t eat him. It walked away leaving the templar in a puddle of his own blood and guts and shit because that’s what he deserved.

 At the funeral for Ser Blarroll nobody came, because nobody cared about him. But all the mages came in order to laugh and jeer at him one more time because they were all glad he was dead. They danced on his grave, especially Elia who smiled and laughed and was happy with her long golden hair shining in the sun.

 

* * *

 

iv.   

 _(A crumpled piece of paper hidden at the bottom of a chest of clothes.)_          

Once upon a time, a cat walked into the Fade.

Now it’s a well known fact that cats can go in and out of the Fade any time they please. You did know that, didn’t you? – well, maybe you just don’t know much about cats.

 This particular cat was named Mr. Wiggums, and he was a fine fighting cat and an excellent mouser, the pride of Kinloch Hold. He had a ragged ear and a torn eye from one too many fights with the dungeon rats, but he wore them with pride; after all, they were the marks of his triumph. He went here and there and wherever he wanted – from the highest enchanter’s studies to the lowest basements – and when night came and dreams covered the world, he went into the Fade.

 In the Fade he met up with one of his long-lost cousins, a mighty tiger – because all cats are cousins to their bigger relatives, and there’s not so much difference between them, really, as you’d know if you knew many cats. Even though the tiger was a hundred times his size, they stopped and greeted each other like old friends.

 "I say, Ser Pounce-a-lot," Mr. Wiggums asked – for that was the name of the tiger – "However did you get those handsome wings?”

 Ser Pounce-a-lot laughed, a low, gruff sort of laugh, and shuffled the fine striped feathers on his back. “A wizard did it,” he answered back. “If a mage could create a mabari, after all – though I don’t know why any mage would want to – then there’s no reason they couldn’t put wings on a tiger, is there?”

 "Oh, I quite agree," Mr. Wiggums said. "The humans are always saying unpleasant things about mages, saying they’re responsible for this and that, and that they’re a stain on the world and a sin in the eyes of the Maker – why, I happen to find them perfectly sound fellows, really. No better or worse than any other humans, clumsy and short-sighted as they are.”

 "You’re right, of course," Ser Pounce-a-lot responded. "You know, I knew a mage boy once. He would come and meet me in the Fade and we would have grand adventures. I was sad when he started getting older, and didn’t come to see me so often. I wonder whatever became of that apprentice?”

 Mr. Wiggums gave a delicate shrug of his fluffy tail. “Who can say?” he said. “But you know, I happen to know a mage too. He spent a long, long time down in the dungeons of Kinloch Hold, all alone by himself in the dark. I went to visit him quite often, because  _he_   at least knew just the right way to give ear-rubs.”

 "In the dungeons, really?" Ser Pounce-a-lot exclaimed. "How terrible. Whatever did he do to deserve that?”

 "Well, he tried to escape, don’t you know," Mr. Wiggums explained loftily. "Can’t have that, mages running around thinking that they have the same rights and freedoms as other people. So they stuck him down under the dungeons in the hopes of teaching him a lesson. In the hopes that after a year of darkness and loneliness, he’d have reformed, he’d have learned his place in the world and never again think such heretical thoughts as dreaming himself free.”

 "And did he?" Ser Pounce-a-lot asked the cat, quite concerned. "Learn his lesson, that is?”

 Mr. Wiggums smiled, smug and secret in the way that only cats can smile, whiskers laid back and eyes half-closing. “What do  _you_   think?" he said.

* * *

 

 

~ end.


End file.
